


Tindr Disaster

by MsMK



Series: Reader-supported Stories [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Blind Date, Eventual Smut, F/M, Kofi campaign, Multi, Multiple Endings, Multiverse Shenanigans, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Undertale Multiverse, reader supported work, tindr date
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-01-31 14:17:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18592969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMK/pseuds/MsMK
Summary: You’ve been preparing for this date all week, with the funny and charming skeleton monster you’d been chatting with on Tindr. You were usually rushed when messaging, so you were looking forward to taking time to really get to know him.Except when you show up, you realize with horror you’ve been chatting with two separate skeletons, and you’d set the date with both of them for the same time with your inattention. In your defense, they were both named Papyrus Aster and had similar profile pictures–but it looks like they know each other and are not keen on letting the other win you over first.How in the world are you going to fix this?





	1. Prelude: Seeing Double

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> This is a teaser for a...thing I'm doing at the moment. Future chapters are currently being supported by my followers, and you can check it out on my [Tumblr](https://msmkcreates.tumblr.com/post/184424875433/tindr-disaster-ko-fi-campaign).  
> This is the part where I definitely don't mention that I'm still doing this thing or my feelings either way about supporting it. It's just a link to my tumblr, that is all.  
> Honestly, all un-subtle pointing aside, I do respect the terms of Ao3 and ao3 as a whole, and I just truly want you all to enjoy this.

You didn’t exactly pride yourself on your dating skills.

You’d had a few duds, but mostly, you didn’t date. You let other things take over, and whenever you met someone in your activities that seemed nice, it either fizzled out due to disinterest on one or both sides, or it ended before it began.

You can’t meet people in bars--that only leads to hookups, and you’d had enough of those. You can’t meet people at work, you’d made that mistake (you still can’t walk into the marketing department without hiding behind a potted plant) and you can’t meet people at the charities, marathons, or festivals you go to because most of them are from out of town, and long-distance right off the bat seems like a disaster waiting to start.

So, in spite of your better judgement, you’d given in to your friends’ prodding and made a Tindr account. You know it’s notorious for hookups, but with certain settings and a keen eye it was easy to filter out the fuckboys.

What really surprised you was the number of monsters on your list. Sure, you had no problem with monsters--they’d been around for some time now, and you had several good friends and coworkers you adored that were monsters. They weren’t much different from humans, in the end--you like some, you don’t like some, you outright hate some. So you had no problem swiping through like normal.

A flexing monster who used l33t-sp3@k? Yeah, no thanks. Swipe left.

A man made of fire who owns his own bar? Pity you’re terrified of fire. He seems nice. Swipe left.

A skeleton with a fat red tongue lolling out of sharp teeth between two fingers? Well, he clearly wanted one thing, and you didn’t want a one-night deal. Swipe left.

A spider woman...hmm, you hadn’t considered women, you’re pretty sure you put just men, but maybe monsters filter differently. You swipe right, unsure if she’d do the same for you.

A few more monsters, a human or two, all left--hmm, did it just pop up with the same skeleton monster twice? 6’10, name’s Papyrus, ironically deep profile picture? Well, you’d swiped right last time, so you didn’t want to confuse the poor guy.

You swiped right again.

In hindsight, that had been your first mistake. 

Your next mistake was laughing whenever he double-messaged you, whenever he seemed a little confused about your messaging, when you had to re-confirm your date time. You figured he’d accidentally glitched out on you, and hey, if you can still get a date through all of that it was worth it in your book, and it might actually go somewhere.

You looked forward to the date all week. Papyrus was clearly very charming, and hilarious, and he had great taste but didn’t mind some potty humor. How do you get so lucky to find a guy like that? On the big day, you set about getting off work early, practically skipped home, and spent two hours trying to decide on something sophisticated yet cute that didn’t look like you tried too hard.

You succeeded, of course. But if anyone asked, it was a valiant struggle and you hadn’t been sure you’d make it out alive.

Your next mistake came when you showed up at the restaurant, a casual dinner place with just enough fancy to read as more than a hookup, and didn’t immediately message him. Instead, you just figured you’d see him when he got there--who can miss a 6’10 skeleton monster?

And you definitely didn’t miss him when he walked in. Er, scratch that. When he walked in from two different doors at the exact same time, caught sight of himself, and immediately began squabbling...with...himself.

Confused and unwilling to admit you couldn’t tell the two monsters apart, you inched closer to try and pick up which was Papyrus from their conversation.

“WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING HERE? YOU LOOK LIKE A LAZY WAITER.” One of them started with a huff. 

He read bad boy from toe to tip, from his sharp teeth to his scarred socket, all the way to his leather jacket that flattered him nicely and his dark-washed jeans. He held himself tall, and tall he was, especially with those sexy riding boots that boosted him an inch or two. Is that a motorcycle helmet and leather gloves?

Color yourself turned on.

“you know, you could start with ‘hello’ for once in your life.” 

The other was casually rumpled, a well-worn orange button-up worn untucked and with the sleeves cuffed at the elbow. His wrists boasted bracelets and entry cuffs from various festivals, and his slacks appeared to me much nicer than everything else, as if someone forced him to wear them even though he matched it up with well-loved orange converse.

...Can you fall in love at first sight with two different people at once?

“HELLO,” Tall-dark-and-sexy huffed, standing with a cocked hip and one hand on the other. “AND GOODBYE. I’VE A DATE TONIGHT AND I’M NOT DEALING WITH YOU IF YOU DECIDE TO RUIN IT.”

“yeah, not interested, meeting someone here myself tonight so i don’t think i’ll be bothering you. i could always invest in a little teddy bear with a recording of my best insults, though, if you’ll miss me?”

“I FEEL BAD FOR WHOEVER AGREED TO MEET WITH YOU, THEY MUST BE BLIND.”

“we have the same face, asshole.”

“YES, BUT WE BOTH KNOW I WEAR IT BETTER.”

Oh boy. They were making it difficult to tell which one was your date by their conversation, and they were starting to make a scene. Maybe you should step in and figure it out.

“Uh, Papyrus?”

You expected them to stop, but you didn’t expect them both to look at you, and you didn’t expect--

**“Yes?”** They said in unison, and a long silence pervaded the waiting room.

Okay, back up.

“Uhm, Papyrus Aster?” You asked again.

**“Yes?”** They both said again, before looking at each other with enough vitriol to make the Queen of Hearts ill.

“Oh, geez, uhm…” You introduced yourself, and both their faces lit up. “I’m looking for my date tonight?”

**“That’s me--”** They said together,  _ again, _ both cutting off at the exact same moment as they had each reached for your outstretched hand.

“EXCUSE YOU. I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, BUT I ALREADY TOLD YOU YOU WON’T BE RUINING MY DATE,” the edgy one hissed, before turning and gripping your hand firmly in a shake that brought him between you and the other one. “PLEASE IGNORE MY COUSIN, HE DOESN’T KNOW WHEN TO QUIT.”

Ah. That made sense, you thought, but before you could respond, the other one held up his phone, your profile pulled up and your conversation visible.

“y’know, boss, i actually thought joking was beneath you,” he said, a little humor in his posture. “can’t say i don’t deserve it for all the pranks i’ve pulled, but i think even you can accept when your joke is over.”

“Oh,” you said, one hand on your heated cheek, completely embarrassed at this point. There’s no denying that was your conversation, and it clearly said to be here at 6:30pm tonight. You shuffled over to him, flushed a bright red and an apology on your teeth--

“WAIT.”

You turned back to the other, his phone now extended and a look of genuine confusion on his face.

On his screen, plain as day, was your conversation with Papyrus, telling him to meet you at 6:30pm tonight.

The two of them exchanged glances, and appeared to know exactly what was happening.

“ah, shit.”

“WHAT ON EARTH MADE YOU THINK YOU SHOULD USE YOUR REAL NAME?”

“hey, you did, too, edgelord.”

“POINT TAKEN, BUT…”

They both looked at you, completely lost and on the verge of shameful tears.

“sorry, honey...we’re both named papyrus aster.” The one in orange shrugged, an apologetic smile on his skull. 

“B...both of you?” You asked, not quite understanding.

**“Family name,”** they said automatically, in unison and overly rehearsed.

“NORMALLY WE USE NICKNAMES. I AM BOSS, AND THIS IS STRETCH,” the leather-clad Papyrus informed you. “WE APOLOGIZE, BUT...OUR SIMILAR PROFILES MAY HAVE CONFUSED YOU.”

“wait, did you lie about your height?” Stretch chuckled, and Boss jumped, pulling his stolen phone from the other’s hands and pocketing it quickly.

“I--! I DID NOT LIE!”

“you’re 6’10 if i’m a clown named harvey.” Stretch leaned towards you with a conspiratorial smirk. “he’s 6’7 without the boots.”

You tamped down the urge to giggle, and the other seemed to appreciate it. “I’m...I’m sorry, but...do you mean I’ve been messaging both of you, when I thought there was only one?”

“looks like,” Stretch shrugged.

“So...what do we do?” You huffed, completely annoyed with yourself. “Geez, uh, sorry, sorry, I just can’t believe I did this, and to cousins, no less. I don’t know where to go from here. I’m not sure which of you I’ve been talking to when, really, so I’m sorry to say that I pretty much know nothing about either of you.”

“THAT’S EASY. YOU’LL WANT TO STICK WITH ME. I HAVE A PARAMOUNT OF CLASS THAT THIS REPROBATE CANNOT OFFER.”

“wow, way to ingratiate yourself with the lovely lady, there, boss,” Stretch snarked, completely deadpan. Boss’ face ticked with annoyance, and he barely turned to look at his cousin.

“ISN’T ‘INGRATIATE’ A BIT OF A LARGE WORD FOR YOU?”

“i’m a writer, asshole.”

“AH, YES, HOW COULD I FORGET SUCH RIVETING EXAMPLES OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. WHAT WAS THE LAST ONE CALLED? ‘LOVE IN THE AGE OF DRAGONS’?”

Stretch frowned, but Boss’ smug smirk only lasted half a second before you gasped.

“Oh my gosh! You write the Ages of Love series?” You asked, eyes sparkling. Boss immediately scowled, and Stretch lit up.

“yeah, i do. you read it?”

“Read it? I  _ devoured _ those books,” you admitted, flushing a deep crimson. “I think I have every book in the series.”

“really? you’ll have to help me with my next manuscript, then,” he offered, sliding his hands in his pockets with an easy smile.

“OH, FOR THE LOVE OF...HAVE YOU EVER HEARD SUCH A CHEESY LINE?” Boss scoffed, though he was smirking just the tiniest bit, you think. “I THINK YOU’D GET SO MUCH FROM A SINGING FISH TROPHY, MY DEAR.”

“sorry, can’t hear you over the sound of us having more in common than you,” Stretch sniffed, pretending to cup one side of his skull to hear better.

“Uh.”

“ONE THING, A RELATIONSHIP DOES NOT MAKE.”

“Uhm...guys…”

“be with you, the force shall be,” Stretch mocked, in a surprisingly good Yoda voice.

“Hey--”

“YOU COULDN’T EVEN IRON YOUR SHIRT FOR THIS DATE. I BET YOU THEY DON’T EVEN LET YOU PAST THE FRONT DESK.”

“Hey--”

“Mr. Papyrus?”

**“Yes?”**

You giggled as they both turned to the hostess, who seemed taken aback by their twin charade. Her eyes flicked between them for a moment, and before they could start arguing again you squeezed between them.

“Sorry! Uhm, we’ll need a table for three, please.”


	2. Dating Start!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are both determined to show the other up, even if it means poking at things that should be taboo for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the votes so far! This was getting long so I'm splitting the date into two chapters (Why I make so much work for myself I'll never know lol)

You fiddled with your bracelet as you waited with your dates for a new table, wondering exactly what you might be getting into.

You might have jumped the gun, getting a table for all three of you--they don’t seem to get along terribly well, but they seemed content and understanding of your choice and it was the quickest, fairest solution you could think of. It’s kind of like speed dating, right? You’ve done that once. And this way, if one of them does click, then you’ll know who to pick.

Still, the entire situation seemed a little preposterous. You, with two suitors at once? You weren’t exactly Miss Universe, over here. You’d never had to deal with such a silly idea--it felt like you were in one of those Otome games you play.

As you were shown to the table you became increasingly worried about doing the wrong thing. Are you already losing points by not talking to either of them?? What if they ask you to decide who gets to sit next to you? What if you make the wrong choice at literally the first--

Oh, thank God. It’s a round table. They can both sit next to you. You book it to the table and seat yourself, dodging Boss’ outstretched hand that was halfway to pulling your chair out for you. He seemed a little perturbed by that, but thankfully didn’t seem outright offended. Alright, you can do this.

Stretch gave his chair a little spin before sitting gracefully, scooching ever-so-slightly closer to you. He was about to speak, but you were distracted by movement in your peripheral--

You were staring. Boss had placed his helmet on the floor gently, and was removing his leather with care. You don’t know why, but you couldn’t look away--he was bulky and tough-looking with the jacket on, but stripping it off revealed an entirely different monster. He was actually very lithe-limbed, tall and graceful in countenance and posture. The sharpness of his features was beautiful, you noticed, and where Stretch appealed to an effortless look, everything about Boss was carefully designed. There wasn’t a single thread out of place, top two buttons of his button-up undone to reveal a collarbone curving slightly up, a few deep red scratches across what bone you could see.

He left his gloves on as he rolled his sleeves up with precision, and you wondered what that shirt was made out of--it looked far nicer than anything you’d ever bought, silky and soft, unwrinkled as he sat, no, more like  _ perched _ on his chair.

He had initially struck you as a little rough and tumble, but now you were beginning to think he was far out of your league as he finally met your eye, his red eyelights smouldering as he smirked--oh boy, that was far too hot to be legal.

You didn’t see Stretch’s smile twitch as he leaned back in his chair, whatever words he’d had for you dying on his teeth as he picked up the menu.

“DO YOU DRINK?” Boss asks casually, reaching for the drinks menu.

“A little,” you answered, scooting over a bit to see the menu as he offered it. “My tolerance isn’t high and...I try not to get drunk.”

“THAT IS EASILY DONE WITH A CLASSY DRINK,” Boss said, his gloved hand splaying delicately across the page. You wondered how someone so graceful and seemingly delicate can also have so many scars as you let your eyes wander up his forearm. “ONE CAN NEVER GO WRONG WITH A DIRTY SHIRLEY TEMPLE OR A ROY ROGERS.”

“I don’t know what either of those are but they sound good,” you mumbled. He chuckled, a deep, satisfying noise.

“THEY ARE SWEET SODA MIXERS, WITH GRENADINE. IT DEPENDS ON IF YOU PREFER SPRITE OR COKE.”

“Oh, coke, for sure,” you insisted.

“A DIRTY ROY ROGERS, THEN. A RUM AND COKE WITH A TWIST.”

“Do you drink, Stretch?” You asked, and the other skeleton seemed to light up at the attention, his head resting on his palm as he smiled easily at you.

Lord have mercy on you.

“pretty exclusively tea and tea-related drinks,” he hummed. “i’m a fan of a nice tennessee iced tea.”

If you remember correctly, that’s iced tea and Jack’s Tennessee Honey whiskey. That seemed sweet and non-threatening.

“Are those good?”

“yep.”

“SHE’S ALREADY GETTING A ROY ROGERS,” Boss huffed, eyelights boring into his cousin. “YOUR TOLERANCE FOR SWEET THINGS IS TOO HIGH. IF YOU GET ONE OF THOSE, YOU WON’T BE EATING DINNER FOR THE STOMACHACHE.”

“i think it’s easier on the stomach than rum, but okay,” Stretch said, shrugging. “how about we order the drinks and she can decide what she likes?”

“FAIR ENOUGH, I SUPPOSE.”

They ordered their drinks, and you requested a plain cola. They came quickly enough, and you all ordered your choices for dinner, and Stretch wasted no time scooting even closer and pushing his over.

“take a sip, see how y’like it.”

You flustered a bit at the idea of sharing their drinks with them, but you leaned in and took a sip anyway. Boss was right, it was fairly sweet, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. You should have known it would be made with southern sweet tea--it had never been your favorite, but it definitely left an impression.

Boss slid his over as well, and you had to admit the grenadine covered up the tang of the rum fairly well. Whoever mixed this knew what they were doing, and it tasted a bit like a fruity coke. Only problem was, you know still that both rum and whiskey are a bit harder than what you wanted to consume tonight. If you want to be completely lucid for whatever shenanigans were about to unfold, it would have to be a dry night.

“They’re both really good, but I think I’ll stick with regular coke,” you said, smiling up at them. They seemed to accept it, and dinner was ordered next without a hitch.

You’re still struggling to separate them out from each other based on the conversation you thought you’d had with them. You don’t want to make any assumptions about them, seeing as Boss and Stretch had already surprised you once each this evening.

“So, what do you two do for a living?” You asked carefully, and Stretch chuffed out a laugh immediately.

“other than be a pain in my ass, what  _ do _ you do, edgelord?” He asked, amused. “i’m not sure i actually know.”

“THAT’S BECAUSE YOU NEVER ASKED,” Boss hissed, a cold, disapproving edge to his voice. But he smiled when he turned to you. “I WORK WITH MISPLACED YOUTHS AS A SOCIAL WORKER. MY JOB IS MAINLY TO BE A STEADY FAMILIAR FACE AS THEY MOVE FROM FOSTER HOME TO FOSTER HOME, AS WELL AS WORK WITH THE FAMILIES TO FACILITATE RETURNING TO THE PARENTS IF IT’S POSSIBLE OR POSSIBLE ADOPTIVE FAMILIES IF NOT. I DO A LOT OF THINGS ON THE SIDE, BUT THAT IS MY MAIN OCCUPATION. I DON’T THINK THERE’S ANYTHING MORE SATISFYING THAN GIVING A CHILD THE HOME THEY DESERVE.”

“Oh, wow, that’s really cool,” you said, lighting up. Boss’ smirk turned up just a tiny bit as he swelled with pride. “I volunteer on the weekends at the Y. You should come by sometime and teach our volunteers a thing or two.”

“I’D BE DELIGHTED TO. I’M QUITE ADEPT AT BASKETBALL.”

“You have a bit of a height advantage,” you giggled.

Stretch was quiet, giving Boss a strange look. Boss only raised a brow at him, but nothing else.

“You said you do other things on the side?” You asked as the waiter placed a basket of bread at the table. The three of you began helping yourselves immediately--it smelled heavenly.

“I WORK WITH THE EMBASSY FOR MONSTERKIND AS WELL, MOSTLY PAPER-PUSHING. I USED TO BE A MEMBER OF THE GUARD UNDERGROUND--” His gloves creaked as he squeezed his knife. “--BUT IT WASN’T FOR ME UP HERE. I WAS READY TO STEP AWAY FROM VIOLENCE ONCE IT WAS NO LONGER NECESSARY TO SURVIVE.”

“...It must have been really hard for you guys, down there,” you said, picking at your bread nervously. “I’m sorry we’ve made it so difficult up here, too. I work at a local law firm that serves monsterkind, and I try to go to all the charity fundraisers in the area. I think it’s unfair that you’re treated like second-class citizens.”

“well, sounds like the two of you have that in common,” Stretch hummed, his smile a little fake. “helping others...a lot more noble than what i do.”

“Writing is a great job, though!” You insisted, patting his hand. “A writer has power no one else does! To take all those convictions and put them to paper? I couldn’t do it.”

“i write smut, not political non-fiction,” he chuckled, squeezing your hand back. “but i appreciate it. thanks.”

“Smut, non-fiction, fiction, young adult novels, they all have a place.” You shrugged. “Oh, but is writing all you do? That’d be pretty cool if you made a living off that.”

“NO, HIS BROTHER HOUSES HIM,” Boss snorted. “IF BLUE UP AND LEFT HE'D BE DESTITUTE.”

The shift in Boss’ attitude rubbed you the wrong way. For someone who cared so much about kids and justice, he was being surprisingly cold to his own family, and the warm fuzzies you had been feeling a moment ago for him were suddenly less intense. Stretch, on the other hand, seemed completely unperturbed by this outburst, chuckling as he took a sip of his drink, choosing not to respond.

“Well, if Blue is willing to work with you to help you achieve your dreams, I think that's great,” you defended. “Sometimes that safety net is the most loving thing someone can do for you. I never would have worked for my law firm if it hadn't been for my mom--the cost of living required more than an emergent charity-based monster-friendly law firm could afford, but I was passionate about it. I could have taken a bigger and better job with my grades but I wanted this one, so my mom helped me pay my rent until they could afford to give me a raise.”

Stretch eyed Boss with intent. “well, ain't that somethin’. family helpin’ family.”

Boss said nothing, only stared at his drink, his look as carefully constructed as his outfit, and you were afraid maybe you embarrassed him.

“Oh, look, the food's here!” You offered, hoping to distract everyone from the controversy. You moved slightly to give the waiter room to put things down, but accidentally scooted too far and bumped his shin.

With a confused cry, food rained down on you, Stretch and Boss reacting quickly enough to snatch up their plates without harm.

Unfortunately you had no grace to speak of and your plate spilled all over you, chicken and rice sliding down your front and pooling in the basket of your skirt as the poor waiter apologized like his life depended on it.

“I'm so,  _ so sorry! _ I don't know what happened--”

“It's okay, it's okay! It's not a hard cleanup,” you soothed, patting the poor kid on the shoulder as Stretch pulled a leaf of cooked spinach out of your hair. “It's my fault for bumping you.”

The kid didn't seem to believe you, casting nervous glances to Boss, who did seem to be giving him a death glare. He had learned from his cruel comment earlier, though, because he didn't say anything, which is good--being rude to the poor kid would definitely earned him a hard 'no’ from you.

Instead he turned to you, offering a napkin to help you. “PERHAPS A TRIP TO THE BATHROOM IS NEEDED, MY DEAR. WE WILL HELP CLEAN UP HERE, YOU GET COMFORTABLE.”

“That's a good idea,” you said, doing your best to deposit the chicken and rice onto the plate and trying to save the poor tablecloth a little stress.

“I'm so sorry,” the boy repeated. “We'll get you a new table and new dishes.”

“No rush,” you insisted, standing and thanking the powers-that-be that you hadn't ordered anything with sauce in it. “I'll be right back!”

* * *

Several paper towels and a trip to your car later, you'd changed into a fresh skirt and top. They'd been in a bag destined for donating, but you were happy you hadn't gotten around to it yet.

Not as fancy as the establishment called for, but also not covered in rice.

You sighed and picked another granule of rice from your hair, looking over your appearance one last time.

Acceptable, you supposed.

You hoped the guys weren't too put off by your absence…

You made your way back to the dining room and spotted them at their new table, apparently deep in conversation. Stretch wore a smirk and Boss a scowl--not unusual from what you'd observed. You were just about in earshot, curious to see what they were discussing--

Boss stood up so suddenly his chair flew back, gloved fists clenching and shoulders tense, and you stopped in your tracks in surprise as he let out a guttural, frustrated growl.

“I CAN'T BELIEVE I THOUGHT WE COULD SHARE THE SAME AIR SPACE WITHOUT INCIDENT!” He seethed, fingers twitching as if he wished to throttle him. “I DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW THE OTHERS OR ANYONE CAN FIND YOU CHARMING. HONESTLY I THINK MY LIFE WOULD BE INFINITELY MORE ENJOYABLE IF YOU _DISAPPEARED_!”

Stretch opened his mouth to snark back, but caught sight of you behind Boss and stopped, looking...a little guilty, rather than the smug look you expected.

Following his gaze, Boss turned on his heel and saw your shocked expression, and before you could even decide how disappointed you were in his outburst, his shoulders slumped in defeat for a moment before he gripped his skull and made another frustrated noise.

“DON'T BOTHER, I'LL SEE MY OWN WAY OUT!” He huffed, and Stretch stood quickly as Boss grabbed his helmet and coat and stalked away, out the door.

“ah, shit,” Stretch grumbled. “blue's never gonna let me hear the end of this.”

“What was that all about?” You asked. “He was being really awful to you all night!”

“that's my fault, though,” he shrugged. “i tend to push his buttons for my own amusement, and normally it's harmless fun, but…”

He looked at the door where your other date had disappeared, his smile disappearing completely.

“...think i pushed him too far. i didn't realize he was so invested in this date or he never would have left like that.” He scratched his mandible thoughtfully. “guy doesn't cry but i think he might break something in his training room at home.”

You relaxed, feeling a little bad for Boss and how you'd judged him. He may be harsh, but he's just not as good with words as Stretch is and was trying to play their game back.

“What did you say that got him so worked up?”

“ahh...nothin’ i'm thinkin’ you'll like.” He smiles weakly at you. “i'm gonna go after him, i think.”

“I'll come with you,” you said, flagging the waiter. You paid him quickly and asked for to-go boxes, and then followed Stretch out the door. “What makes you think he even stuck around?”

“he'd never get on his bike after a drink and when he was emotional. he probably hoofed it to a nearby park to yell at the trees.”

“He does that often?”

“it's better than how he used to handle his anger, but then again, it's hard to find anyone willing to spar with him anymore because he's better than most of us by leaps and bounds.” Stretch turned the corner and you could indeed hear Boss’ voice berating a tree for its lack of leaves, being that it was autumn. “hey, could you go back and get the takeout? this won't take too long, promise. then we can try again.”

You smiled at him, hand on your hip. “Fine. But I expect a proper date from you two this time, no competition.”

“no promises,” he chuckled, then disappeared into the park with a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to check out my Twitter and watch for more vote chances!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to send me ideas on my tumblr for things you think they'll try to one-up each other over at dinner!  
> Please keep an eye out on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MsMKcreates?s=09) for the reader voting that will shape the next chapter!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Blame it on Tindr!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21645091) by [Lady_Flame96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Flame96/pseuds/Lady_Flame96)




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